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Someone got Oneta all fired up today and I love it. She did a post called, “Listen Up Ladies,” a righteous rant indeed. Click to read the whole thing.

All in good fun here, I don’t come from the 1950’s, I don’t come from the romanticism of “Leave it to Beaver,” more like the 70’s and 80’s and the “Adam’s Family,” but she and I still share the same heart.

I’m going to shamelessly take it to the next level here, I fear for the playfulness, for the camaraderie, for good humor and fearless interactions between men and women that now seem to belong to another decade. I miss the innocent banter I used to enjoy at work, the guys trusting us with their off-color jokes.

Someone winked at me the other day in the feed store and I was quite grateful, grateful for a small acknowledgment, grateful for the unspoken encouragement, but then I had to pray, don’t ever let us lose this simplicity, this innocence, this natural way of being, to a culture of fear.

I miss “pardon my French,” and genuine concern that someone’s language had unwittingly crossed a line. What line? An invisible one that just kind of declared we like to soften our tone around women.

All things are not always equal.

I’m nostalgic for the sweetness of some guy seeing me and quickly draping  a shop towel over both a calendar on the wall and a greasy chair on the floor. That really happened once, a funny memory, but a fond one.

I’m worried about us as a culture, about what women are doing, what feminism is doing to who we are as a people, to the idealism we once held, to the way we behaved towards one another.

I don’t like being the object of fear.  All in good fun here, reverence for ladies is just fine, fear is not. What is happening in our culture is not so good, because the power  is out of balance, women have become something threatening, something potentially dangerous. We are now less likely to be hired for a job, less likely to be heard when we speak the truth, and perhaps less likely to be respected overall.

Oneta says, “Then take some responsibility for the garbage that masquerades itself as normal in this age of progressive enlightenment.   Stop playing the victim!

I like that! I actually love strong, empowered women. The thing is, to be empowered, to be strong, requires taking a great deal of personal responsibility, picking up blame even. “The buck stops here,” as one of our president’s once had posted on his desk.

The parts that are our fault are the parts we have control over. Victimhood is a terrible place to be, because it places all of the power in someone else’s hands.